Tips for Living(31)

“Ms. Glasser has cooperated in good faith thus far, Detective. And I am advising her, as is her right, not to answer any further queries just now. Thank you for your time.”

With that, I heard Detective Roche curse as Gubbins whisked me out of the interrogation room. As the door closed behind us, I sagged against Gubbins’s shoulder for a moment. I was so relieved.

“Thank you so much. Who sent you?”

He took my arm.

“Let’s walk and talk,” he said, and steered us down the hall toward the reception area. “Ben Wickstein phoned me on your behalf. I hope you’re not peeved about my fibbing in there.”

“Ben called you?”

“You needed a lawyer, pronto. They don’t have enough to charge you, but you are definitely a person of interest in a capital offense.”

“You mean a person of interest, officially?” My voice broke. “They didn’t tell me that. Jesus.”

“I could represent you, if you wish, until you have time to research and secure other counsel,” he said.

“Wait.” I stopped short and spun around toward him. My adrenaline was up. “There’s no evidence. If this is just because I’m Hugh’s ex, well, that’s prejudicial. That’s . . . divorcist.”

“Perhaps. But it is what it is. And we don’t know how far or fast this will progress. As a young lawyer, I did have experience in the county DA’s office before I went into private practice, and I can tell you these matters are unpredictable. A lawyer is necessary.”

“This can’t be happening,” I croaked.

Gubbins’s serious demeanor said it was.

“Let’s hope they find other suspects,” he said.

“How about finding the killer?”

Gubbins nodded so vigorously his glasses slipped down his nose.

“The killer. Of course, yes.”

He urged me forward again, and as we neared the reception area, I spotted Grace speaking on her phone in a corner by a potted palm. She hadn’t seen me yet. But Ben, who’d been sitting next to the Hispanic woman and tickling her baby’s toes, had. The relief on his face was evident. He instantly patted the infant’s thigh, stood up and rushed over to meet us. I flushed, both embarrassed and grateful to see him.

“Nora! Are you okay? I jumped on this as soon as Grace called me.”

I lowered my voice. “Am I really a person of interest? Officially?”

“Yes. But the police are on a fishing expedition. They’re trying to bait you, and they’re about to get straightened out.” He put his hand on Gubbins’s shoulder. “Doug, can we speak for a sec?”

“Of course.”

Grace saw me and hurried over as the two men stepped away.

“Nor! Thank God you’re out of there. How awful was it?”

I glanced over at Ben and Gubbins huddling together and whispering in a way that seemed urgent.

“I’ll tell you at the nearest bar. Do you know a place around here?”

She sighed and looked distraught. “I wish I could go out with you. I can’t.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Mac just called to say Otis had a tummy upset. He’s asking for me. I really should go back soon.”

Of course she should. Grace had been at this with me for hours. Now Otis needed his mommy. I felt rotten about keeping her from him even one minute longer.

“I’m sorry, Gracie. I’ve taken up your whole day with this mess. Can you just drop me home on your way? I’ve got some vodka in the fridge. I’ll be fine as soon as I knock myself out.”

“Don’t be silly. You’re coming to stay with us. The boys would love it. Grams is making dinner tonight.”

“No. Otis isn’t feeling well. You need to focus on him. And I don’t think your in-laws would appreciate you bringing home a . . .” Choking up, I pressed my hand over my mouth to stifle a whimper. Grace reached for my other hand and squeezed it until I was able to speak again. “I don’t think she’d like you bringing home a murder suspect.”

“A person of interest,” Ben interrupted as he joined us. “First rule of reporting, Glasser. Have your facts straight. Don’t get me started on how many so-called journalists screw that up.”



Ben offered to give me a ride back to the Coop. I insisted that Grace go home and pay attention to her family, and she didn’t argue with me, for once. While Ben went off to the parking lot, I lingered on the station steps taking advice from my new legal representative. All the while Gubbins was speaking, I worried about how I was going to pay his hourly rate on top of all my other expenses.

“There are some rules, Ms. Glasser. Number one: don’t leave the county. Not because the law forbids it, but because the police will likely put you under twenty-four-hour surveillance, seven days a week, if you do.”

“How will they know I’ve left?”

“Believe me, they will. They’ve probably already flagged your charge cards and started tracking your car’s GPS.”

“That can’t be legal.”

He shrugged. “Once they start following you full-time, they’ll tend to see all your actions as suspicious. It’s the observer effect. Watching changes things. Number two: don’t speak to the press.”